Getting the Point
by ohcyfan
Summary: Owen tells Cristina he wants to be around 40 years from now. What happens next?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: These characters and all of Grey's Anatomy are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. I do not own anything connected with this show. **

**A/N: They sure left us hanging after Owen made his "Forty Years" declaration, didn't they? Here's how I'd like to see it go after that.**

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"You know you're a lot like her… stubborn… opinionated… smart. Forty years from now I'm gonna have to pry the scalpel out of your hand, too," he nodded playfully.

Cristina leaned in with a smirk, "From my cold, dead hands!"

Owen let out a breath. "You're... missing the point." He moved a bit closer, then looked her straight in the eye. "I want to be around 40 years from now."

Cristina stared at Owen for a moment. He held her gaze. _ Is he saying what I think he's saying? _She waited a beat before responding.

"What are you saying?"

Owen smiled and leaned in closer. "Losing your edge already, Dr. Yang?" he teased. "You need me to spell it out for you, or can you connect the dots all by yourself?" He surprised her by leaning over and planting a quick kiss on her lips, then pulled back just a hair's breadth. Cristina tried hard to contain her surprise. _Wow. He just did that in front of __**everyone**__… right here… at Joe's._

No matter. It had felt so good to have his lips on hers again after what seemed to her like an eternity of ridiculously chaste flirting. She was not about to let the opportunity go unexploited. "Um… I think I need you to spell it out."

Owen chuckled. "Hmmm… not that good a speller, actually…" he whispered into her ear, "but I do excel at show and tell." He kissed her ear and then reached his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a much longer and hotter version of his previous attempt at explanation. She tasted of tequila and lime. "Are you getting the point now?" he murmured.

Before she could respond they were interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping on their table, and they turned to see Bailey staring at them, her mouth hanging open in disbelief and righteous indignation.

"Well, well, well… How about you two get yourselves a room before you set this whole place on fire?" She shook her head as if trying to make sense of something so far out in left field it was already bouncing its way through the parking lot. "Holy shit." She pointed first at Owen, then at Cristina, then back at Owen. "This one got right past me… and I'm supposed to KNOW what goes on in my hospital. First I see surgeons beating the snot out of each other in the hallway, punching each other in the face, messing up their million-dollar hands… and now you two turn out to be into some kind of hanky-panky that I never saw coming." She shook her head in wonderment and shot them a look as she headed out the door. "This has been one strange-ass day all around…"

Owen stared sheepishly at Bailey's retreating back and scanned the room to see if they had drawn any more attention to themselves. Callie raised her glass to him in a mock salute from the bar, but otherwise it seemed no one had noticed. Callie knew more than enough anyway, and they had an unspoken understanding since his disastrous first date with Cristina and their collusion in the misattribution of blame in the Mark Sloan penis adventure. No real harm done.

_I'm surprising myself tonight,_ Owen reflected as he turned his attention back to Cristina. He had not intended to make out with her in the middle of Joe's, and not only because of an aversion to feeding the gossip mill. The truth was, that kiss had been so spontaneous that he had even caught himself off guard. Then again, he hadn't expected to tell her he wanted to be in her life 40 years from now, either, but he'd just gone and done that, too. He could blame it on the liberating effect of a couple of beers, but he knew that was no excuse. The truth was, he was getting clear on his intentions where Cristina was concerned, and in spite of his current difficulties with re-entry into the civilian world and life in general, there was still enough of the cocky badass in him to want to shake her up a little.

"You were saying…?" Cristina was still leaning in close to him, and her question brought him back from his reverie.

Owen kept his voice low. "You know, she does have a point… about the room. Uh… I've already seen your place…" Cristina raised an eyebrow and Owen laughed, "… or we could just pretend that never happened if you prefer… ah, fuck, I'm screwing this up…" He shook his head with a smile. "I'm inviting you over tonight. It's that simple."

Cristina snorted, "Oh, and I'll bet you have some priceless etchings to show me, right, Doctor?"

Owen stared at his hands for a moment before capturing her gaze with his intense blue one. He cleared his throat. "Yeah… uh… I'd like to think I can do a lot better than etchings…"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Cristina took a final slug of her drink, grabbed her coat , and nodded toward the door. "Let's go."

Owen chuckled to himself and got up to accompany her, first dropping a few bucks on the table and taking another swig of beer. He helped her on with her coat as they headed out, his hand naturally finding its way to the small of her back. Her response to his invitation had made it clear that she was already several steps ahead, at least when it came to the physical side of their relationship, and he was going to have to jog a little to keep up with her. Not that he hadn't thought about it, obsessively for that matter, but he'd been leery of moving too quickly and turning her off in the wake of some of the emotional trauma she'd seen in him recently. He wasn't sure how far things would progress tonight, but just the idea of having her at his apartment was enough to require an adjustment to his jeans.

"Hang on," Owen said as they reached the door, and moved ahead to open it for her. Cristina smiled. She wasn't used to having doors held for her – didn't expect it from anyone, and was usually the first one to barge through and maybe grudgingly hold the door for whoever was behind her. But there was something nice about having the same guy who had just told her she was stubborn, opinionated, and smart feel the urge to perform that gentlemanly gesture for her. There was something VERY nice about that.

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Owen took her hand as they headed out the door and down the alley outside Joe's. He had no way of knowing that Cristina didn't do the hand-holding thing. Her strong intellectual side disdained it as too cutesy, reminding her of those insufferable couples in high school who needed to show off their couplehood by merging their pathetic sweaty palms together. The idea of holding hands with Burke had never crossed either of their minds, and she registered with some surprise that she had just naturally clasped Owen's hand in return, liking the feel of his warm palm next to hers on this chilly night, and enjoying the sense of protection she felt from the simple connection. As the realization struck her, she glanced over at him; he caught the look and returned it, giving her hand a little squeeze in the process.

His car was parked in the hospital lot, a couple of blocks away. As they made their way down the alley he remembered with no small distress the kiss he had inflicted on her the night that homeless patient, Timothy, had died. _Well, maybe inflicted is too strong a word, _he thought, but he had definitely been in a very different space then, totally raw, trying desperately to resist his attraction to her and to avoid connecting with anyone. It had been a hot kiss, no denying that, but he had reeled in shame for days afterward over his loss of control and the dark impulses that had led him to handle her so roughly. Things were better now – not perfect, but better. He was taking Cristina home with him and they both seemed to be in a good place regarding where their relationship was going. The urge to revisit the scene of the crime and forge a new memory around it was strong, and he stopped in his tracks, pulling Cristina to a halt as well. She turned to him. "What?"

"Humor me," he said, and backed her up against the wall. The look in her eyes was full of questions as he moved one of his hands up her arm and into her hair. He hovered just out of range and grazed her lips with his, teasing her with a gentle smile on his face before he finally moved in and covered her mouth. She moved her hands to his hips and up his back, and felt him edge his body closer as the kiss deepened. Soon it was as hot and forceful a kiss as the one they had shared there previously, but the way it had come about had completely altered the energy and imprinted something new and wonderful over the shadows that had lurked there before.

"That's my apology," Owen said when they finally surfaced, his forehead touching hers as he ran his hands down her arms and took both her hands in his.

"Uh, wow… Ok. If that's how you apologize, I hope you screw up more often… but… what for?"

"For practically mauling you the other time we were here. I've never forgiven myself."

"Oh, that… Don't worry... I actually thought it was kind of hot, to tell you the truth."

Owen laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulders and steering her back in the direction of the street, "Ummm… Huh. This is too perfect." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I have nothing to say."

"Good. Then you can shut up. I like your showing better than your telling anyhow." She bumped his side with her hip, giving him a playful little shove.

Owen laughed again, pulling her close as he led her toward his car_. I'm not wrong to get my hopes up about tonight,_ he thought. _There's no way I'm reading these signals wrong. No way at all…_

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**A/N: Please tell me what you think of it so far. Would you like me to continue this story?**_  
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	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: This hiatus seems awfully long, doesn't it? Well, hopefully this story will fill in a gap that I think many of us have been wanting to see explored...**_

_**Thanks to BNScrubNurse for some great verbiage in one of her reviews for another story of mine (Letting Go). The phrase was so good, I stole it for Cristina. See if you can spot it, BN!**_

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When they pulled into a parking space in the garage of his building, Owen quickly got out and opened Cristina's door for her.

Cristina shook her head in amazement. "Do you always do that stuff, or are you just trying to impress me tonight?"

"Hey, I was raised right." He smiled, then looked at her inquisitively. "Hasn't anyone ever opened a door for you before?"

"Not like that, they haven't. I'm not complaining. It's just… surprising."

"Well," he took her arm, "I hope I can continue to surprise you." A little flash of electricity zinged its way through her system with that statement, and she gave him a sideways glance. "Come on," he nodded toward the entrance. They made their way to the elevator and up to his place on the 4th floor. When he opened the door, Cristina was pleasantly surprised to see that his apartment looked warm and inviting, with hardwood floors, comfortable brown leather furniture, and a soft beige area rug under a rustic wood coffee table. His kitchen had dark cherry cabinets and green granite countertops. It was open to the living room like hers, but unlike her apartment, his was neat as a pin and had a decidedly masculine feel.

He took both their coats and hung them up in the closet. _Man, do we have a style difference here,_ Cristina mused, as she reflected on how she would have just thrown them over a chair or on the floor.

She followed him into the kitchen. He went straight to the fridge and poured himself a glass of cold water. "Want anything?"

"Yes…" she looked at him provocatively, "but not from the fridge." She was leaning back against the counter and the invitation couldn't have been more clear. Owen put his glass down and placed his hands on either side of her. "Well, my etchings happen to be in storage, so there's only one other thing my limited mind can conceive of in this situation…"

"My mind must be equally limited, then."

"What a coincidence…" Owen leaned down and kissed her briefly, as if testing the waters. They had already been more intimate than that tonight, but now they were on his turf, and he was careful to make sure he wasn't taking advantage in any way.

"You smell really good," he observed.

Cristina sniffed her hair and snorted. "I smell like Joe's."

"Then Joe's smells good on you. In fact, whatever that scent is you wear, it's been driving me crazy for weeks."

"It's called shampoo."

He ran one of her curls through his fingers. "You have a way with shampoo, then… Um… I have to ask this… Are you on the pill?"

"Yeah… since last month…" she said, shaking her head, "though I was beginning to wonder if I was wasting my energy until tonight…"

"Good." Owen leaned over and kissed her again, this time more deeply. "We can't have you wasting your energy…" he whispered, "I think you'll be needing it." Up until this point his hands had been resting on the counter, but now he encircled her with one arm and moved the other hand to the back of her neck, caressing her lightly with his fingers and sending shivers down her spine. Cristina moved in on him as well, her arms sliding up his back, pressing her body tightly against his and feeling the full extent of his desire against her belly. They began to make out in earnest, losing themselves in the sensations of lips and tongues and teasing little pecks, punctuated by kisses so deep Cristina could feel them all the way down to her toes. She was reminded of the first time Owen had kissed her, that utterly surprising move as she sat on a table in the exam room. She had often wondered afterward what would have happened if she hadn't stopped him. _Now_, she thought, _I'm going to find out._

Suddenly Owen grabbed her by the waist and boosted her up so she was sitting on the counter. He dipped his head down, and nuzzled the V of her sweater and then her breasts, then moved his hands to cup them over the soft material. He went back to kissing her as he explored the hardening nubs of her nipples through the fabric and began to rub his fingers over them, and she moaned softly against his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist tightly. That was all the encouragement he needed, and he swept his hands up the inside of her sweater and pulled it off over her head. The black lacy bra underneath was a pleasant surprise, and he took a moment to appreciate it before removing it altogether. He kissed her shoulders as he reached around to unhook it, and his fingers trailed around the front, following the lacy fabric. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered as he kissed her again and savored the feel of her bare breasts in his hands.

Not to be outdone, Cristina ran her hands up his chest, first outside and then under his grey T, and Owen sucked in a breath as he felt her soft fingers on his skin. She yanked his shirt off and took a moment to admire the hard lines of his chest and arm muscles, something she'd only seen in the adverse circumstance of that drunken mess of a first date, and then again for an instant in the on-call room when she'd woken him up accidentally. Neither of those experiences had been particularly satisfying, and she promised herself she was going to keep her eyes wide open tonight and really appreciate the view.

Their eyes met for a long frank moment, both of them topless in the bright fluorescent light of his kitchen. They kissed again, and then Owen put his hands underneath her bottom, picked her up, and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. The door was open, and he left it that way as he leaned over to quickly pull the covers aside on the neatly made king-sized bed. He then followed her down onto the soft sheets. _This guy actually makes his bed…_ _What's he gonna think when he realizes just how much of a slob I am..._ flashed randomly through Cristina's brain, but that thought was quickly replaced by a desire to devour the scrumptious man who was currently removing her jeans and panties. She helped him off with her remaining clothing, then watched appreciatively as he stood and unbuttoned his jeans, divesting himself of them and his boxers at something close to the speed of light.

Cristina couldn't help but stare. He really was a magnificent specimen – not classically handsome in the way of a Mark Sloan, or smooth like Burke had been, but so intensely masculine in a raw way that was uniquely Owen. The scar that snaked its way down his outer thigh added character to an already compelling picture, and she was reminded of how he had stapled his own leg shut without anesthesia, realizing with a little internal smile that his display of machismo that day might have actually been for her benefit. She had never been with anyone like him before – had never done the facial hair thing, or the redhead thing, or dated anyone even remotely connected with the military - and it struck her that his particular brand of manliness was the perfect counterpoint to her tendency to be a rather abrasive smartass. While her usual acid wit tended to come off as tough and invulnerable, Owen found numerous ways to validate her heretofore unexplored mushy side, like bringing her a drink at Joe's, or opening doors for her, or guiding her along by the elbow when he wanted her to go somewhere with him. It occurred to her that she had never felt as feminine in her life as she did at this moment, as he studied her naked form with the same hunger that she knew was reflected in her own eyes when she looked at him.

It was awkward for a second or two, as they both looked their fill, and then Owen lay down on the bed and took her in his arms, and the awkwardness dissolved as if it had never been. They had reached a comfort level with each other in the last few weeks, at work and in the unplanned social moments in the cafeteria or at Joe's, and it translated itself into the bedroom despite the irony of them never having actually been on a date. Those early stages of a typical relationship had been replaced by the intimacy of shared truths, panic attacks, drunken revelations, and falling asleep together in the on-call room. Somehow it seemed right and even less awkward to make love first, to fan this smoldering fire and see where it would lead them. That first date might never happen. They might already be so far beyond it that it would never be missed.

_Geez, this man knows how to kiss_, was all Cristina could think as his lips caressed her mouth and his hands played havoc with her nipples. The way he touched her and the passion with which he threw himself into the act of kissing her left her feeling cherished and adored. She reached down and began to stroke Owen's shaft, and the kisses got even more intense until finally he pulled away. "You're gonna have to stop that or it'll be a short evening," he smiled, "though believe me, I'm not complaining."

"Got any better ideas?" she teased.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he countered with a mischievous grin, and began a trail of kisses down her torso that ended with her gasping as he flicked his tongue into her cleft.

"I thought now might be a good time to make it up to you," he said as his tongue dipped down again.

Cristina groaned with a mixture of pleasure and confusion, "Oh my god, what the hell are you talking about…? Make what up to me?"

"Our first date..." was all he said as he positioned himself between her legs for maximum access, and proceeded to drive her insane with his tongue. He seemed to know exactly when and where to focus, when to go fast, when to slow down, and how to keep her in a state of complete agitation. Cristina had no words left, had in fact lost the thread of whatever conversation they had been having in favor of simply giving herself up to the exquisite sensations he was evoking. She came close to an orgasm several times, but Owen seemed to have a sixth sense where she was concerned and kept pulling back just when she was on the brink. "You're... killing me," she finally ground out, "and.. I swear... you'll pay for this..."

Owen raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm looking forward to it," he breathed into her pussy, pulling away for an extra few beats, just long enough to make her wonder if he was going to stop altogether, and then went for it so fast and with such intensity that she felt like she was shattering into a thousand pieces when she finally came. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god... I think I'm hyperventilating…" she gasped. but he just kept going until she thought she might pass out. She finally grabbed him by the hair and yanked, and Owen kissed his way back up her middle, bracing himself on his elbows to give her time to recover. "Need a paper bag?" he offered as he kissed open the eyelids she had squeezed shut. Her breathing continued to be ragged and she let out a choked laugh before she opened her eyes to find his deep blue ones staring at her with a combination of amusement and raw passion. As she got her breath back, Cristina felt an urgent need to have him inside her without any further delay.

"I need more than a paper bag, Big Guy." She brushed herself against him suggestively. "Got anything else up your sleeve for me?"

"Well, not up my sleeve..." he teased. "That would just be... gross. I'll check elsewhere, though..." He reached down and gently rubbed her clit, causing an almost excruciating aftershock of pleasure to shoot through her. "Mmmm... I'll bet there's more where that came from..." he whispered, then positioned himself at her opening, maintaining eye contact as he slowly slid inside her. The realization that this marked the actual instant of their first intercourse hit them both at the same time, and they looked at each other for a long moment, communicating their awareness without words. He withdrew slightly, then rammed into her forcefully, and Cristina moaned and dissolved around him. Something about that move made her feel possessed, branded, as if he had staked his claim in that one hard stroke. The tiny portion of her brain that wasn't overwhelmed with sensation searched for a reason for that to bother her, and she could come up with none. At the same time, Owen was flooded with emotions he didn't care to explore, and more excited than could ever recall being with anyone. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from exploding on the spot. Instead, he concentrated on kissing her, touching her, eliciting a variety of soft sounds from her as she ran her talented fingers over his chest and back and drove him crazy with need for her.

Somehow he managed to keep things slow and steady for a while, gauging her response and reining himself in when the urge to just go for it got too strong, but there was only so much he could take, and finally he knew that there was no turning back. His thrusts became harder, faster, more forceful, and Cristina's response showed she appreciated the rougher handling every bit as much as his earlier, more gentle approach. She was amazed to feel a special spot deep inside her start to tingle and glow. _And I thought the G spot was a myth_, she mused as she felt the warmth begin to flood her. _I guess no one else ever knew where to find it. _They settled effortlessly into synch, her counter movements corresponding perfectly to his hard thrusts. She felt all of her feminine power manifest itself as he held her tightly - kissing her, nipping her ears and shoulders, and finally burying his face in her hair as he found his release and spilled himself into her with a loud moan.

Owen collapsed on her momentarily, crushing the breath out of her for an instant before he rolled off and pulled Cristina in close. She put her head on his chest and splayed her hand out on his hard stomach, which was rising and falling with his heavy breathing. She felt winded too. "Wow," was all she could manage.

"I second that," Owen gave her a little squeeze and reached down to pull the covers over both of them. Cristina snuggled close to his warmth. He ran his hand up and down her arm and kissed the top of her head. "I hope you're not too disappointed about the etchings…" he teased.

"Holy Hotness, Batman…" she let out a loud breath, "I'm not disappointed about ANYTHING."

"Good," he chuckled.

"Geez... If I'd known you were so... talented... I would have jumped you a long time ago," she continued.

"Will I be needing a bodyguard at work now?"

"And who might that be?" she snorted derisively, "George?... Karev? Oh, wait, I know..." she raised her head and looked at him, her eyes alight with amusement, "Bailey!"

Owen laughed, "Based on her performance this evening, I'm sure she'd be up for the job..." His tone, still light, turned more serious, "Just don't ever sneak up on me, ok?"

The teasing gleam in Cristina's eyes faded into compassion as she met his gaze and simply nodded her assent. Owen had clearly reached inside and touched something dark with that request, and she was certain that if he hadn't been concerned for her welfare, he would never have brought it up in this context. She was full of questions but didn't want to spoil the mood by asking them now, here, in bed. They could wait.

Her reticence was validated when he abruptly changed the subject. "Now go to sleep. It's eleven thirty and we're both on at six, plus you have that cardio surgery first thing…" He turned on his side and pulled her in so her back was against his chest, and she nestled herself against him.

"How did you…" she broke off as he brushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. "Never mind…"

_What a stupid question, Cristina, _she chided herself._  
_

_He just knew…_


	3. Chapter 3

As Cristina began to surface from her night's sleep, she became aware of little sparks of pleasure emanating from her breasts, spreading a warm feeling deep into her core. She opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, and in the dim light from the streetlamps she saw Owen lying on his side, watching her as he gently teased her nipples with his fingers.

"What're you doing?" she mumbled and stretched.

He smiled a little when he realized she was awake, but didn't stop his ministrations. "Well… these are called nipples…" he said, as if explaining basic anatomy to a dimwit, "and they respond to stimulation…" He moved in close so that she could feel his hot breath in her ear. "Are you sure you went to medical school, Dr. Yang?"

She reached up and gave him a little shove, "You know what I mean!"

"Yes, I do" he responded, and kissed one breast, "and the short answer is that I'm waking you up... Or would you prefer the alarm clock?" His fingers circled slowly, first one nipple, then the other.

Cristina was trying hard to maintain a semblance of rationality in the face of this sensual onslaught. "But it's so early," she groaned. "What time is it? I feel like I hardly slept…" she broke off with a sigh of pleasure. "Oh, god, that feels good…"

"It's 4:45," he said matter-of-factly. He circled one nipple with his tongue until she moaned softly, then continued, "We're both on at 6:00. Am I right in assuming you'd like to show up at work in clothes that are different from the ones you wore yesterday? If so," he moved up and nuzzled her neck, still drawing lazy circles around her nipples with his fingers, "we'll need to drive over early so you can go change."

"Shit. You're right." She started to sit up. Owen pushed her back down on the bed and ran a finger down her cleft, which had become increasingly hot and wet in the last few minutes. He inserted two fingers, and began circling her clit with his thumb. Cristina felt her will to budge drain right out of her. "I'll drive fast," he smiled as he moved between her legs, still continuing his gentle assault with his fingers.

"Uh... ok," was all Cristina could manage.

She began to squirm against his hand, and when he could tell she was nearly over the edge, he slipped himself inside her.

"You know..." he whispered as he buried his face in her hair and began to move in long, slow strokes, "I had this itch… and I thought if I scratched it, it would go away for a while…" he kissed both her eyes and moved to her other ear, "but the funny thing is... it just got more intense… and now it feels like I can't get enough of you…" He nipped her ear and nibbled his way down the side of her neck as his strokes got harder and faster.

"Um hmm," Cristina purred. "Just don't stop what you're doing…"

"Not a chance…" he whispered in her ear. He had held himself back last night, working hard to prolong the experience for both of them, but since time was short he allowed himself the luxury of just letting go and losing control. As he neared his peak he could tell that Cristina was reaching hers as well, and when he began to feel the little spasms that signaled her orgasm, he held her tightly and pounded her into the bed hard and fast.

This day was starting off very well.

And for the first time in her career, cardio surgery or no, Cristina didn't give a flying fuck if she was on time for work or not.


End file.
